


Absolute Gravity

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny and Mindy call each other while watching a movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> It's kinda smutty.

It’s one AM when he steps out of the shower. He hasn’t been able to sleep, so he’s cleaned his apartment from corner to corner. His body feels the natural exhaustion of physical strain, but lying in bed is pointless, because sleep won’t come and he knows it.

 

He grabs a tee shirt and a pair of boxers, before he paces, barefoot, around his bedroom. There’s a nice, warm breeze outside, and this prompts him to stand by his open window for a while with a beer in his hand as he watches the city flicker along before him.

 

When his beer is gone, he places the empty bottle on the windowsill, and proceeds towards his bed. He climbs under the covers, leaving the other side undone. His first thought as he avoids looking at the empty pillow, is that there’s something missing. Someone.

 

Piling up a few pillows behind him, he settles down comfortably, actively avoiding looking at the empty side as he picks up the remote control and focuses on finding something to watch.

 

This late at night every other channel airs info-mercials, he notes, and settles on one about collectible stamps. He lets it play as he searches the movie guide, Skinemax looks appealing, but he realizes he would feel a little pathetic watching porn late on a Saturday night. He’s got to draw the line somewhere. Two channels down, The Godfather, part two, has always been his favorite, and right below it, The Bridges of Madison County. He hovers over one title, then the other. Screw it. Clint Eastwood. Doesn’t get manlier than that.

 

* * *

 

 

She lies across her bed, tangled up in blankets, bottle of wine in her hand, glasses dipped low on her nose, bunched up pillow under her head. Meanwhile, on her TV, Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep are falling in love.

 

She sighs. “You beautiful idiots. You’re going to regret that.”

 

She isn’t sad tonight. Not as sad as she’s been other nights, but it still hurts inside, and locking herself in for the night with a beautiful movie that’s going to make her want to die and a bottle of wine is just what she needs. Once in a while, a girl just needs to cry alone in a dark room, where no one can see her.

 

She presses the bottle to her mouth and tilts her head just enough to get a good drink of it. It spills on her pillow, just a droplet. “Ugh.”

 

Her phone rings on the nightstand, and she has to crawl over to it, dragging her body across the bed, careful not to spill anymore wine. She smirks victoriously to herself when she manages to grab her phone without another accident. Grabbing her pillow and turning onto her back, she picks up the call without really looking at the screen. “Yeah, hello.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“Danny?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Yeah. Hi. Did I wake you?”

 

There’s a brief pause on the other end before she replies, “No. No, you didn’t. I was just watching a movie. Can’t sleep.”

 

He smiles, relieved he’s not an inconvenience, he seems to be just that to her lately, “Yeah, me, too. What are you watching?”

 

“Uh—The Bridges of Madison County.” She sighs again, turning her head towards the television as she talks, “I felt like something sad and devastating to make me feel better about my life.”

 

He chooses to ignore the last bit. It’s too late to get into that. “Yeah? That’s what I’m watching.”

 

She snorts. “Right.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Well, color me surprised, Danny Castellano, watching a Meryl Streep movie.”

 

“It’s a Clint Eastwood movie.”

 

“It’s a Meryl Streep movie, who are you kidding?”

 

“He’s Dirty Harry!”

 

“Uh—she’s Sophie. And she was in Mama Mia. Every movie she’s in is a Meryl Streep movie.”

 

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

 

They fall silent as Francesca buys a new dress on the screen, both comfortable with just the sound of each other’s breathing as they watch the movie.

 

It’s nice, talking like this. It’s gotten easier lately, being around one another. She’s beginning to allow him that closeness, mostly because, while it still stings to see his stupid beautiful scowl, he will always being her an ease she won’t ever get from anyone else and that’s the truth. Maybe they can do the friend thing. Slowly.

 

“God, I could never live in a house with no air conditioning.”

 

“You don’t need air conditioning, it’s all in your head. It’s all about ventilation, just open the windows,” he grumbles, he hears her laugh and he smiles at that. He can practically feel her chuckling beside him and it makes him ache a little bit.

 

They watch in silence a little bit longer, and as Robert and Francesca get to know each other, Meryl Streep’s flawless Italian accent prompts Mindy to ask, “Hey, Danny? Were both your parents born in Italy?”

 

“My mother was. Her family moved here when she was a baby. She met my dad at a deli in Queens. They couldn’t stand each other; they couldn’t be in the same room together. Until one day, at some party, my mom had finally had it. So, she goes up to my dad, sticks her finger in his chest and says ‘look, I keep having to look at your ugly mug everywhere I go, I either marry you or I have to move, so you want to buy me a drink?’. I don’t think my dad had a choice but to buy her a drink.”

 

“Oh, my god! Danny! Your mom is my hero!”

 

He chuckles and feels prideful warmth thinking about his mother, allowing himself the luxury of fantasizing about Mindy meeting her. “Yeah. She’s pretty great. You’d like her, I think. She’d love you.”

 

He curses himself for it, shuts his eyes tightly and hopes she doesn’t hang up.

 

The catch in his breath isn’t lost on her. It makes her sad, because she would have liked to meet Danny’s mom. She would have liked to see his baby pictures and pictures of his old girlfriends, would have loved to hear embarrassing stories of him growing up. Now, that’s never going to happen and she’s still not entirely sure why.

 

“Sorry.” He says.

 

She closes her eyes and takes a moment to consider not responding this, deciding then, that she has the right to respond. “Danny, you really need to stop apologizing to me, because it’s not doing anyone any good, okay? Jus stop. It was a dick move on your part, it’s done, you can’t undo it. So let’s just work with what we’ve got.”

 

He almost apologizes again. “And what do we have exactly?”

 

“We’re—friends. Isn’t that what you want?”

 

No. It’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want her friendship, he wants all of her, that’s the problem. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I want.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They resume their silence and watch the movie for a another thirty or forty minutes, commenting on it here and there, making jokes during the more intense sex scenes because they’re both thinking about sex with each other and that could get inappropriate very quickly.

 

“I’ll never understand why those two couldn’t just make it work,” She says when it’s over and she’s sitting up in her bed with the half drunk bottle of wine long since forgotten on her nightstand in favor of hugging her pillow to her chest, a pillow which is now wet with tears. Her phone is hot against her ear, beeping, signaling that she has a good five minutes left of power. “I mean, they were perfect together!”

 

“It’s the logical thing to do,” he says, swallowing the lump in his throat. Male pride and all. “She’s a married woman, he’s a citizen of the world, and there’s a no way to know if it would have worked out in the end.”

 

“That’s a bunch of crap,” she says, dropping her glasses on the mattress before she wipes her face dry. “He’s just scared. If he really loved her, he would have stayed, and convinced her—it’s a bunch of crap.”

 

“Min, you okay?”

 

She gives a little laugh and watches the credits roll, shaking her head a little before saying, “Yea, sorry. I’m fine. I should go to bed though. Now that I’m all hollow and empty inside, I’ll have to fill the hole this movie has left with ice cream, the rest of my wine, and sleep. Stupid movie.”

 

“All right. You’re sure you’re okay?”

 

“Yes.” She says, and then drops her head back and groans, pouting even though no one is there to see it.

 

“What?”

 

“I have no ice cream.”

 

“You want me to bring you some?”

 

She should tell him no, she’s fine, that she should really just get to bed. It’s three in the morning, and saying yes would be a very stupid idea. “Okay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, after Mindy’s kept herself from putting on a cute bra, or quickly shaving her legs because that’s her only salvation from things that shouldn’t happen, Danny is at her door, holding a pint of chocolate chip ice cream, a bottle of wine and a cheesy smile on his face.

 

“Damn it,” she curses under her breath. He hardly has time to reply, as she grabs the back of his neck and crushes her mouth to his, effectively pulling him all the way inside her apartment as he kicks the door shut and drops both the ice cream and wine on her couch as they clumsily make their way to her bedroom.

 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t consider that this would happen as he paid the liquor clerk for Mindy’s ice cream. He would be lying if he said he doesn’t like the idea, but still, it takes him by surprise that she doesn’t have more reservations about it. It takes him by surprise that he doesn’t.

 

The miss her bedroom door by a few inches, kissing is a distracting act all on its own, let alone while they’re trying to migrate to a bed.

 

She laughs when they’re halted, then gasps when he pushes her harder against the wall and kisses her until neither can breathe and they’ve stopped suddenly, with nothing but the air between them to resolve the tension they’ve dragged on all this time.

 

He cradles the side of her neck as he nuzzles her cheek, and her jawline, then kisses her hair and her neck, breathing her in, for only the selfish need to do just that. Her hands roam over his back and shoulder blades as she brings him closer and for a moment, they stand there, holding each other. It’s overwhelming being this close again. Somewhere along the way, they find themselves on her bed.

 

She’s naked and he’s halfway there, perched on his knees, between her legs, he pulls off his hoodie, taking his tee-shirt along with it. She helps with his jeans, shoving them down his hips as he kisses her. He tears his lips from hers without warning and she would complain about this, except, Danny’s got an oral fixation, and he’s currently orally fixating on her breasts. He wraps his lips around one pebbled nipple and sucks lightly, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth over it as he slides a hand down her abdomen—lower to tease her with his index finger along her list. She bites down on her lower lip and eases her legs wider apart, releasing one tiny grunt of desperation.

 

He moves onto her other breast—according to her, the bigger one—and rounds the base of her clit with the pad of his finger. She gasps and her hand finds his hair. It sends chills down his spine.

 

He’s so hard, it’s beginning to feel painful, but he’s fantasized about doing this to her for almost as long as he’s known her. Maybe he’ll tell her about it later. He applies very little pressure, drawing out his ministrations to match the pattern of his mouth over her breasts. He knew this would be addictive, making her lose control like this, making her moan and sigh, and writhe beneath him, he could definitely be addicted to this.

 

He breath becomes short as he circles her clitoris faster, so he lifts his head to watch her. She’s got her eyes closed, and her lips are parted as she arches her neck and something like a whimper escapes her. He licks her neck, sucks on her pulse point and her hand in his hair becomes a tight grip when her orgasm stills her body and then releases in small convulsions that render her soundless.

 

He can’t be held accountable for himself if she’s going to that. He can’t be held accountable for not waiting a single minute longer to be inside her when she looks so beautifully pleased with him.

 

He pulls himself up, and she gasps when he firmly grabs both of her thighs to pull her toward him, then grabs the pillow she’s half fallen off of to toss it across the room. Her lips are swollen, from kissing, her eyes are hazy, and she’s reaching for him, panting a harsh, “Come here.” It sounds like a demand, one that he adheres to automatically and without question.

 

She guides him inside her, shivering as he slowly lowers himself over her, slipping inside her gently. They kiss when he begins to move, gripping one of her thighs with one hand and holding his weight off her with the other.

 

Her hips lift against his, urging him to thrust harder, so he does. He tries to keep his strokes measured, but firm, and with every one she makes the most excruciatingly delicious sounds.

 

She rakes her nails over his ass and he jerks in surprise. When he lifts his head looks down at her, she’s smiling mischievously. But the smile soon disappears when he angles his hips just so, and moves a little faster, reaching for her hand and bringing it between them. She touches herself with practiced skill and soon enough, she’s losing control again.

 

It’s all blurry from there. It’s all limbs and mouths and hands, and sounds neither ever wants to forget or live without.

 

He hovers above her when they’re both completely undone, while she his holds his head so his forehead remains pressed to her own, and neither can do much except breathe, until finally, he falls beside her. Without thinking, he reaches for her and she complies, lazily kissing until their heart rate seems to be back to its natural drumming, and the sun is showing its first rays through Mindy’s open window.

 

“I can’t be your friend, Danny.” She says after a long while of drowsily memorizing each other’s features.

 

“I can’t be your friend, either.” He reaches out and brushes a stray hair out of her eye, “My mom is going to love you.”

 

 

 

END

 


End file.
